


Darkest Night

by masulevin



Series: A Sword to Pierce the Sun [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort, Developing Relationship, Drinking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 09:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7930084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masulevin/pseuds/masulevin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The weight of being the Herald is weighing heavily on Idri, and she's trying to lighten the load by drinking alone. Cullen finds her and offers some advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkest Night

Cullen expected to see Idri in the busy tavern, surrounded as she usually was by the hodgepodge of friends she’d collected over the past weeks. Not that he was looking for her, of course, but he knew she could usually be found at the bar nursing a cup of ale, or with her sleeves rolled up trying to beat Varric at Wicked Grace. Tonight, though, she wasn't there. At least not anywhere he could see.

He collected his drink and dinner and made his way through the crowd to his usual quiet corner. Just before he sat down, he realized Varric was already sitting in his seat, table covered with loose pieces of parchment and a few spare quills. Cullen hesitated and looked down at the dwarf, trying to decide if he should just sit down anyway.

Varric glanced up at him and the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smirk. “Idri isn't here.” Cullen opened his mouth to protest that _he wasn't looking for her_ when Varric continued: “She took a bottle of something to the lake. You should probably go check on her to make sure she hasn't fallen in or anything.” Varric looked back down at whatever he was working on, quill scratching quickly across the paper. Cullen got the distinct impression he was being dismissed, which irritated him, but if Varric was actually worried about Idri…

Cullen found himself out of the tavern and on the path out of Haven before he realized what he was doing or had time to think that _maybe_ it was a bad idea to take a plate and mug out of the tavern. Well, he _was_ the commander. If that didn't protect him from Flissa, what good was the position?

It was only a few minutes’ walk down to the frozen lake, and he quickly spotted a hooded figure sitting on the end of the broken dock. He approached carefully, trying to make enough noise to warn Idri he was approaching and give her time to escape if that’s what she wanted

The figure didn't move until he sat down next to it, dangling his legs over the end of the dock. His legs reached much closer to the ice than hers did, and he smiled at the sight before offering her his plate of salted meat and bread.

She glanced down at it silently, then shook her head, instead raising a bottle of something to her lips to take a long pull from it. She had to tip her head back to get the liquor to pour into her mouth, and Cullen noted how empty the bottle sounded with a frown.

“Is something bothering you?” His question was quiet, and he realized even as he said the words that they were the wrong ones. Why would Idri, usually so composed, be drinking alone by the lake if something _wasn’t_ bothering her? She realized the question was ridiculous too, and she scoffed before drinking again. He wondered if he should take the bottle away from her before she could make herself sick, but she started talking before he had a chance.

She turned over her left hand so they could both see her palm. Without the benefit of her gloves, it was easy for him to see the anchor burned into her flesh. It was an angry green, the same color of the Breach that swirled over their heads, and it glowed faintly even though she wasn’t trying to use it. The light seemed to be burning from her flesh, cutting a jagged line across her palm, and while they stared at it, sparks flashed into the air.

“Why would you think something is bothering me?” she looked up, but didn’t meet his gaze, instead looking past him to the Breach. The green light made her look sickly, reflecting off of the bow and arrow tattooed onto her face. He refused to let his gaze waver, instead waiting for her to finish speaking. She was silent for a long moment, twirling the bottle slowly between her fingers, before sighing and dropping her eyes to his. “Nothing happened _today_ , if that’s what you’re asking. It’s just one of those days.” She offered him the bottle for him to drink, and he took it from her, putting it down on his other side out of her reach.

“I know how that is,” he said softly, remembering the early days after Kinloch when he found himself chasing away memories of the tower in a similar way to what Idri was doing now. He wanted to touch her, to take her hand in his or rub her back, something to let her know that she wasn’t alone. Instead he pressed his cup into her hands. “Please drink this. You’ll thank me tomorrow.” She grunted but obeyed, slowly sipping the cold water.

The pair sat in silence for a while. Cullen picked at his dinner while Idri sipped at his water. She didn’t seem to want to talk about whatever it was that bothered her, and Cullen wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. If she didn’t want to bring it up, why should he push her? He rubbed the back of his neck as another thought occurred to him: how much of his current worry for her was from a professional, maybe friendly, concern for the Herald and how much of it was from his growing need to protect her and see her happy?

He blushed, glad for the cover of darkness, but turned to face her as she suddenly started talking again, the alcohol loosening her tongue even as it soured her mood.

“It’s just hard.” She paused, staring down into the almost-empty mug before continuing. “Everyone’s looking at me like I’m some sort of hero, but I’m _not._ I’m just an elf whose good luck surviving the Conclave was ruined with this thing.” She turned her left hand over again, glaring down at the mark, like she could erase it just by the force of her will. She growled in annoyance and reached up to pull the hood of her cloak down over her face.

Cullen eyed the dark fur as it hid her face from him, for the first time noticing that the bear’s ears were still attached to the fabric. His eyebrows knit together at that realization, but he knew that wasn’t the right time to start asking questions about where she got such a garment.

“How do _you_ handle it?” Cullen snapped back to attention as Idri’s voice floated up from under her hood, sounding much smaller suddenly. “Everyone depending on you?”

He wasn’t sure what to say, and he searched through his mind for an answer. Finally: “I look to the Maker for strength.” She snorted at that answer and a frown ghosted across his face before he continued. “I have the support of my friends. You do too.”

Idri tilted her head at that admission, considering. “You never think it would be easier to just… give up?”

His answer came easily. “Every day.” Not give up the command of the Inquisition forces, of course. Being a soldier was all he’d ever known. But the decision to leave the templar order… that was something he thought about giving up every day. It plagued his thoughts from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to sleep--if he was able to sleep at all. Idri didn’t know about his struggles with lyrium, and he knew that wasn’t what she was asking about, but he couldn’t help thinking about it first. He pushed the thought aside to tell her later. “I just have to believe it’s worth it. It’s worth all of the struggle. And when it’s hard to remember… I look for a way to remind myself. I find something to do to take my mind off of it. Keep busy.”

“Keep busy,” Idri echoed, voice almost a whisper. Cullen watched as she turned to him, her whole body shifting on the dock until she was completely facing him. Her silver eyes met his gold ones, and he felt their intensity bridging the distance between them. “Good idea. Thank you, Commander.”

“Call me Cullen, please.” The request left his lips before he realized he wanted to hear her say his name.

She smiled, swaying slightly as she tilted her head back to look at him. “Thank you _Cullen._ And thank you for the water. I should probably go to sleep.” She stood, leaning on his shoulder to haul herself upright, and hesitated for a long moment. He started to stand to help her, but she waved him off as she got her bearings. “I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Cullen watched as she walked away, shuffling through the snow, and silently resolved to check on her after a few minutes to make sure she made it back to her tent safely. He pushed away the guilt that came with the bloom of concern in his gut, reminding himself that it was perfectly normal to be worried about the Herald’s safety.

**Author's Note:**

> After having a bad day myself, I imagined a pep talk from Cullen. This is part of what I came up with.
> 
> Cross-posted on my [tumblr](http://ma-sulevin.tumblr.com/fanfiction/).


End file.
